


The Sheep Incident

by SXM132



Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Misbehaving houseguests, Post-Canon, literal fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 09:42:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13761432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SXM132/pseuds/SXM132
Summary: This is why Lightning can't have nice things.





	The Sheep Incident

They were three quarters of their way back from a grocery run when the clouds above unleashed their heavy burden. Vanille yelped at the sudden and merciless downpour, and her spine went stiff as the frigid autumn rain hit her. Fang merely shot a glance skyward; several bags dangling from her arms inhibited any other response. “Let’s get a move on.” Nodding to the road ahead she broke out into a light jog, and Vanille followed quick on her heels.

Five minutes and several hills later found them on Lightning Farron’s quaint but isolated property. The empty driveway told of her absence, as she was likely still at work. The pair took shelter under the porch, and Vanille groaned when she realized just how thoroughly drenched she was. “Remind me why we didn’t bring an umbrella?”

“Because you said _‘Fang, we can definitely beat the rain’_ , and I believed you. Silly me, aye?” The older woman laughed, fishing around in her back pocket for the spare key. Vanille hugged herself meanwhile, rocking back and forth in an effort to stave off the cold. Once the key was found and inserted into the lock Fang pushed the door open and gestured for Vanille to enter. She would have gladly done so, had she not been distracted by a noise.

“You heard that, right?”

“Heard what, love?”

“ _Shh._ Listen.”

They stood motionless on the porch, ears perked and picking up nothing but the hammer of rain against the roof. Fang was about to ask Vanille to go inside when the noise presented itself again; a soft, sad bleat.

“Oh! It’s a sheep!” Vanille said excitedly. She put down her bags and hurried to the edge of the porch, peering out into the thick sheets of rain. She could just make out the silhouette of the creature by the side of the road. “What’s he doing out there? He’s all by himself.” Before Fang could interject she was already out in the rain, calling out to the sheep and patting her knees encouragingly.

“You’re getting soaked,” Fang protested from the door.

Vanille disregarded her and bent down as the tiny sheep approached. “Are you lost, little guy? Where’s your family?” It bleated again miserably, and pushed its head up into her palm once she’d extended it. She cooed and petted its sodden wool. “You poor thing. Why don’t you come with me? I’ll get you all warm and dry until the rain stops!”

She stood and strode a few paces toward the house, looking back at the sheep expectantly. It hesitated for only a moment, until its stubby legs started to waddle after her.

“What are you doing?” Fang asked.

“Helping!” She beamed, and took up her groceries again before passing through the threshold. Fang pursed her lips as the sheep let itself in after her. She closed the door behind them and locked it. “Yeah? You’re forgetting the part where Lightning kills us for this.”

“We don’t have to tell her.” They set their bags down on the kitchen isle and Vanille grabbed a hand towel. Fang’s sculpted brow arched as she watched her crouch and begin to scrub down the animal. It wriggled under the cloth but did not try to escape. “We’ll dry him off and put him in the garage until the weather turns around,” Vanille explained. “I bet she won’t even notice.”

She frowned at the towel in her hands, which had become far too saturated and useless. Discarding it in the sink she brought a finger to her chin, musing out loud. “I don’t know where Lightning keeps her linens. But we have extra towels in our room, don’t we?”

Her question was more rhetorical than anything and she left without receiving a response, making her way toward the guest room. So engrossed in the task at hand, she failed to notice the way her teeth chattered and her shoulders trembled. Fang, however, was all too aware. When Vanille grabbed a fresh towel from their washroom and turned around she found herself trapped; the other woman planted firmly in the doorway, blocking her exit.  

“What are you –”

“ _Ah-ah._ ” Fang wagged her finger and took the towel from Vanille, then with the same hand made a ‘come hither’ motion. “You first. The sheep can wait.”

Fang could be very stubborn when it came to her wellbeing. Knowing she had little say in the matter Vanille complied, opening her arms and taking a step forward. Her brows lifted in confusion when Fang twisted at the waist, denying her access to the towel. She nodded to Vanille’s dripping clothes. “You’re going to have to get rid of those first.”

Even as the explanation sunk in, Vanille couldn’t help but taunt her while reaching for the hem of her braided wool sweater. “This was all some elaborate plot to get me in my underwear, wasn’t it?”

“Of course it was. Little critter was in on it too,” Fang humored, and waited as Vanille pulled the heavy, sopping top over her head and tossed it into the shower stall. A shiver visibly rolled over her as she discarded her boots, skirt and leggings too, before she hopped into the warm fold of the towel and Fang’s embrace.

Fang quickly ran the cloth over her form, rubbing warmth back into her skin. The towel was then thrown over her head and scrubbed haphazardly over her hair, making Vanille fuss and laugh and shove at her until she stopped. Having no choice but to fix the chaos she undid her hair ties and let the damp curls spill onto her shoulders, smoothing over the pieces Fang had disrupted. She berated her with a look that didn’t seem to have any effect. In fact, she looked quite pleased with herself. “Happy now?”

“More or less,” Fang answered. She hooked the towel around Vanille’s back and pulled her close until they were practically nose-to-nose. “A thank-you kiss might be nice.”

The younger woman giggled and purposely evaded her when she leaned down, pecking her cheek instead of her lips. “I don’t know about that. You’re still all soggy.” Her laughter turned into a soft intake as Fang’s mouth moved south, her kisses hot against the underside of her jaw.

“We’ll have to remedy that, won’t we?” Fang said.

Vanille nodded distractedly, letting her fingers wander into Fang’s tight black sweater and over her abdominal muscles. She pushed it up and over her head as Fang sat her on the counter, her lips returning to her neck the second the task was complete. Vanille let out a small whimper. The contrast of Fang’s warm skin and damp, cold hair against her shoulder was making her shiver again. Or maybe it was what she was doing with her tongue.

Pressing her lip Vanille scooted closer and circled her legs around Fang’s hips, her hands dipping between them to tug at the button of her jeans. The older woman made a noise that was half chuckle, half hum and kissed her cheek again. Their eyes met, mischievous and alive with excitement, as Vanille ever so slowly pulled at the zipper.

Then _BANG!_ A loud crash erupted from the opposite end of the house.

They froze, sharing a look of shock and realization, before Fang groaned and dislodged herself from Vanille. “Bugger.” In a controlled sprint she ran down the hallway. Vanille scrambled off the counter and draped the towel around her shoulders. When she finally caught up with Fang she found her in a pretty heated tug-of-war match with the sheep and Lightning’s white lace dining room tablecloth. A glass candelabra lay broken on the floor in three places, surrounded by an assortment of cutlery.

“That’s enough from you,” Fang growled, and with another sharp pull the cloth popped free of the creature’s mouth. A celebratory laugh died short on her lips when she unraveled the sheet and found an entire corner of it missing. She glared at the sheep, who in turn stared back and chewed innocently.

“Do you think she’ll notice?” Vanille wrung her hands as Fang spread the cloth over the table, putting the missing portion at the least visible corner of the room. She smoothed it over and bent down to collect the dishes. “Oh she’ll notice alright. Question is whether she’ll end us quickly or draw it out.” Fang paused at the sound of tiny legs on the floorboards, and looked up from her work with narrowed eyes. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

The sheep paid her no mind and waddled down the hallway in search of more tasty linens. Vanille followed, but when she reached out to pick it up it doubled its pace and eluded her. Fang set the dishes down and hurried through an adjacent room, where she knew she could block the sheep’s route. She had not expected it to be at a full run by then, however. The wet fluffy mass bolted between her legs and Vanille, startled by Fang’s sudden appearance, slipped on the floor and barrelled right into her.

They toppled backwards, Fang hitting her head on the way down. She groaned and closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to subside. “I hate that little shit.”

“Are you okay?” Vanille asked from on top of her. Her voice was a combination of worry and amusement. Fang shooed her hands away from her face lazily and looked at her. “Where is‘e?”

Vanille peered up, and Fang watched fear flicker across her features. “He’s by the front door – but right next to the stairs. He looks like he’s thinking about going up there.”

“If he goes up in Lightning’s room we are dead. Seriously dead, Vanille.”

“I know, I know.” Vanille pushed onto her hands and knees, making eye contact with the sheep. “It’s okay,” she cooed. “We’re not going to hurt you. We just can’t let you run all over the house like this.” She made a small movement forward. Fang just lay motionless, not at all minding the view.

“Be a good boy and come over here,” Vanille said sweetly. But when she extended her hand the creature flinched, taking a step closer to the stairs. She bit her lip, adrenaline coursing through her. If she made a lunge for it would she be able to grab it in time? As if catching onto her thoughts the sheep moved again, lifting its front legs onto the first step – daring her to try it. Muscles tense she lifted off her knees slightly, getting ready to make a run for it.

But the sound of the front door unlocking turned her legs to jelly. She dropped half her weight back on top of Fang, staring in absolute horror as the door opened. Hand frozen on the doorknob, a rain-drenched Lightning stared back in mirrored horror.

“Um – welcome home!” Vanille chirped nervously.

Lightning blinked her steel blue eyes once, processing. She looked from them to the sheep in front of her, and her expression morphed into a more typical stony one. She shifted sideways in the threshold, piercing the creature with a look. “You. Out.”

Petrified of the woman the sheep obeyed immediately, skittering passed her and out into the rain again. Vanille whined softly in her throat but said nothing as the door closed. Lightning locked it calmly, then looked back at the two half-naked Oerbans straddling each other on the floor of her hallway. Where she had just booted a sheep from.

Exhaling, Lightning closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Whatever _this_ is? I don’t want to know. Don’t do it in my house.” Without so much as a second glance she mounted the steps to her room.

Fang and Vanille listened for the door to close, and a short while later they heard the shower turn on. Only then did they break into an uncontrollable and tear-inducing fit of laughter.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you read Sentinel this was briefly mentioned in the last chapter. I thought it would make a cute one-shot given the lack of New World Fanille out there. Shoutout to plus_minus for looking everything over. Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
